


my dear, melancholia

by lovertonic (lustsick)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Exes, Exes with Benefits, Friends With Benefits, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Mentions of rough sex, Mild Angst, References to Poetry, Sexual Content, Slight Codependency, building relationships over again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29292981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lustsick/pseuds/lovertonic
Summary: There're a million things I want to tell you - millions of things I want to ask.I wish I had gotten the chance to meet you.When will I be given the time to see you? To actually see you, bare and raw.When it happens, will you let me look at you for a moment?Could I kiss you, and dance my fingers down your skin like falling stars?Would that be okay? Even if it's just a second, I'll hold it dear to my heart.Just for you.Sincerely, yours.(or: Jeno's ex, who he happens to also be sleeping with, keeps sending him love letters. And Jeno does what any other sane person would in his situation, he pretends he doesn't know Mark sent them in the first place.)
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Lee Jeno/Mark Lee
Comments: 11
Kudos: 86
Collections: Love Dream 2020





	my dear, melancholia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dustysadderdaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustysadderdaze/gifts).



> first, i would like to apologize to op because you wanted best friends sending love letters, but when I sat down and wrote this I was already so far into the markno exes agenda TT___TT  
> second, i hope you enjoy this dramatic, poetry inspired read. I didn't go too in depth with some things I wanted to write bc of lack of time but I hope you at least like a bit of this mess lol <3  
> finally, hope you had a lovely valentines day! here's to markno being utter fools, forever in love with one another! *clicks drink*

Renjun places a letter on his desk that simply reads _To Jeno._

Similar to the other letters he's seen spill from his locker for the past month and a half, this one lacks an owner. It has no _from_ just a _to_. Jeno squints his eyes at it, far from skeptical but more so over the fact that it's late. He usually receives a letter every Friday of the week, without fail. This one came early, this one came on a Wednesday. He still lifts it from the desk and thanks his friend for playing messenger.

“How'd you get the letter?” He asks once he notices Renjun is lingering, perhaps so he can read the letter over Jeno’s shoulders because he's genuinely curious or to go run his mouth to Donghyuck for the sake of having something to gossip about.

“I was getting your Sociology of popular culture book and it fell out,” Renjun starts, moving closer to him when he notices Jeno has already begun unfolding the typed letter. “I was tempted to read it then and there, hence the ripped corner--” only then does Jeno notice the rip on the corner of the envelope, he chuckles. “--but I figured I could always see it when you open it.”

“Why? So you can make fun of them and me?” Jeno playfully shields the letter from his eyes.

Renjun only feigns a shocked expression, “When have I ever? Besides, Donghyuck is in class, and I know you one million times prefer it's me being nosy than Jaemin or Donghyuck.

That was true, Jaemin would only beg him to call the police because _it could be a stalker, Jeno Lee, please think rationally_ and Donghyuck, well he was just too much sometimes. He'd probably glue the letter to the door of their apartment complex in hopes that it'll bring embarrassment to Jeno and the person who wrote it if they ever see it there. Renjun was ultimately the better option of finding the letter, even if he intends to share what was written on the white piece of paper in Jeno’s hands to their roommates eventually.

“Wow,” Renjun plucks the letter from his fingers as he rereads the simple, yet emotional words. “This person sounds like they’re in love with you.”

Jeno shakes his head and goes back to the screen of his laptop where he’s typing up a response to one of his classmates for a peer review assignment. “That’s a really strong word,” he tries to busy himself with typing, but Renjun’s words flood his mind.

“Aren’t you curious to know who this is?” He wonders, brows furrowed and a frown on his lips.

Jeno pauses for a moment, fingers hovering over the keys. He knows curiosity is something innate within them, be it for the hunger of knowledge or for the plain act of prying, he did think of it. There was little Jeno knew of the faceless writer, but enough room to allow imagination. If he thought too hard of who was behind the letters, Jeno was afraid he’d be disappointed or worse, that he’d be tossed back into a hopeless love. Furthermore, whoever was behind the letters wanted to remain anonymous, and Jeno felt as if that were a good call on both their parts.

“It’s been almost two months of receiving a letter every week,” Jeno states, taking the letter back from Renjun’s hands and tracing the black printed ink with his thumb. He runs his eyes across the words briefly before folding it closed and slipping it into a drawer. He smiles up at Renjun from his seat, “I think whoever is writing them wants it to be kept a secret. You know I’m not the type for confrontation anyway.”

Renjun sends him a small smile, one that is more from pity than anything else. They all know how his last relationship ended; how could they not when they were all in the same friend group anyway. His friends knew just how hard it was for Jeno to heal from it and how hard it was to let go even though he made it seem simple. He figured if he convinced himself it was then it would make everything feel less stressful. It would justify his given situation a bit better, even if Renjun frowned harder when his phone rang at one a.m. in the middle of September.

Even when Renjun has disappeared, Jeno’s fingers still hover over the keys of his laptop. His eyes are glaring at his response, and he has half a mind to delete everything and instead go to bed, but it’s only six. He thinks about the letter and the person who wrote it; sadly, he finds that he can relate to it too when he thinks of the past.

  
  


_I_ _go numb at the thought of you._

_My fingers get cold and they shake from the breeze of when you pass._

_Maybe that's just me yearning for some sort of warmth from you._

_Sometimes my lips turn blue, and the words in my throat seem stuck, and only when you speak does everything fall back into place._

_When you smile, I find myself mirroring you all day until my lips hurt from the stretch and my cheeks are burning a soft pink._

_Only then do I feel warm._

_And I do that a lot, think about you, I mean._

_Sincerely, yours._

* * *

Contrary to his doe eyes and warm persona, Mark’s hands were always rough and cold whenever he gripped Jeno’s skin.

He didn't mind; he liked how easily he made Mark’s mind go blank, leaving nothing but his body to respond in desire at the sight of him. He thinks there's nothing wrong with it, even if his friends cast him worried looks everytime he skips out on a study session because _Mark texted._ (“You're going to regret letting him do whatever he wants with you someday. There's a reason exes don't fuck each other, Jeno.” Jaemin had frowned at him one night that Jeno stumbled back to the apartment, hair disheveled and lips a revealing red, during one of his drama marathons. “Someday,” Jeno quipped back as he sluggishly made his way to his room to run himself a warm bath, “But not today.” He made sure to call out once Jaemin was out of view. He had refused to let the other ruin his night with his scolding, not when Mark Lee put out so well tonight after two weeks of silence.) What they don't seem to understand is Jeno quite prefers it this way. Jeno comes, Mark conquers, and all that's left by the end of the night is for the both of them to respectfully retreat. It works for them; besides, Jeno knows it's better than having Mark permanently glued to his side like he once had. He knows Mark appreciates the change in dynamic, too.

“Hands,” Mark mumbles behind him. Jeno can barely hear him with the sheets rustling, their skin contacting and Mark’s music playing low in the background. It doesn't help that his ear is pressed into Mark’s cotton pillow either.

He whines, loosening his grips on the sheets before sliding them down and offering them to Mark. The other grabs his wrists in his own hold tightly, and a new feeling overtakes Jeno as Mark keeps him locked in place. In this position, Jeno can't do much but meet Mark’s shallow thrusts halfway. With the other manhandling him, they fall into a pattern of Mark moving how he pleases and Jeno going against him for the sake of riling Mark even further. Jeno has always found pleasure in doing the opposite anyone expects of him, it should be no surprise that a smile overtakes his lips, evidently satisfied with himself, at the groans that slip from Mark as he grinds back.

He should expect it by now, but everytime Mark grunts and reaches forward for his hair to pull, Jeno makes a startled noise. “Stop,” Mark gasps behind him, overstimulated.

Jeno relishes at the fingers running through his hair and the sturdy grip on his wrists that have no intentions of letting go. Contrary to Mark’s words, they both know neither will rightfully surrender. Mark tugs at his hair and Jeno clenches around him, Mark grips his wrists and Jeno grinds back against his cock. In a way, their bedroom dynamic reminds Jeno a lot of how their relationship had been. With Mark's sharp words and Jeno’s own intransigent personality, they clashed. The explosions were never as grand considering neither of them enjoyed drawing too much attention to themselves. Still, their pride seemed to be too much for one another to handle. Jeno figured he and Mark were simply made for this, for rough sex and sharp words and iron grips.

“You're so stubborn,” Mark hisses in delight. He's come twice tonight, once in Jeno’s mouth and now inside of him.

Jeno hums in agreement, and his accordance is greeted with a hand--that was once roughly pulling at his hair--on his cock. He shuts his eyes and balls his fists as Mark continues to fuck him, making a further mess along his skin. “You are too,” he moans into the sheets, bucking into Mark’s fist in order to reach his own climax.

The other chuckles behind him, and Jeno isn't sure if he's laughing at how desperate he is to release or because he agrees with him. He considers both are fine as long as he finishes too. Jeno knows Mark isn’t an asshole, even if they had a strain friendship and only ever seem to listen to one another when they’re begging to come. Which is why Mark picks up his speed, moves his hips a tad bit rougher than the last few times, and rubs his thumb along his slit.

“Let me hear you,” Mark whispers behind him, sounding similar to a devil on his shoulder.

When the other stops his thrusting, opting to grind against his ass as Jeno does the same, he finally gasps out a sharp, _“Mark.”_

It's exactly what the other wanted, and it's what Jeno needed at that moment. Acknowledgment, that Mark was above him, pulling his hair, his come streaking along the back of his thighs, his hand leaving a rich imprint along his ivory skin. _Mark, Mark, Mark._ Nothing has changed, no matter how far he gets fucked into the mattress. All it takes is one moment with Mark and he's lucid again.

* * *

_Sometimes I see you around._

_Everytime I do it puts me in such great spirits._

_I wish I could approach you in those moments, but I fear ruining something I'm unsure of._

_Today especially, you looked very pretty; you looked very happy, and that made me feel a way I have never felt before when in context of you._

_Was it relief?_

_I wanna keep feeling it._

_Sincerely, yours._

Though Renjun can be very brutal with his words, he at least is a tad more compassionate than Donghyuck. “Honestly, I know they're just letters, but this shit is starting to weird me out.” He confesses one afternoon that a new Jeno's letter slips from his backpack. Before Jeno can snatch it back up, it reaches the flames of Donghyuck’s fingertips, consuming it word by word. “Fuck, I sound like Jaemin, but aren't you the tiniest bit creeped out?”

Jeno ponders for a moment, thinking of the possibilities. Each one led him back to one point: there's no reason to be frightened by the letters. The person behind them are at distances, and they remain far from touch. Similar to the letters, Jeno is also relieved. Having the person reveal themselves, in close context, would only distraught him further.

“No,” Jeno shrugs, aiming to ease Donghyuck and himself. “I know it's someone on campus. Someone who's seen me around, maybe they're in the same club as me. I don't think a random person would know where to find my locker.”

“Damn,” Donghyuck dumbly responds, almost as if it hadn't dawned on him that it could be an acquaintance, or a friend, or a friend of a friend. “Do you think it's Sungchan? Maybe Chaewon? _Fuck_ , what if it's Renjun?!”

Jeno laughs at the last one because of how absurd it is and how much stress it brings Donghyuck. He doesn't console him immediately from sheer pettiness, but when Donghyuck looks as if just might cry, he finally brings himself to speak. “Renjun is out. He and I are like brothers.”

“Talking about me?” Renjun calls out by the front door, having got home from work.

Donghyuck clears his throat, Jeno quickly picks up that he wasn’t quite ready to reveal his feelings to their friend. “Who the fuck even writes love letters in 2021?” Donghyuck retorts, expression crinkled in disdain as Renjun quickly realizes the topic. His expression crinkles in a similar impression.

Jeno sinks further into his couch, “I think they're...nice.” He aims to comfort the person behind the letter though he’s a hundred percent sure it isn’t anyone in the room given the fact that Renjun and Donghyuck were both in a committed _entanglement_ with one another. He thinks about the possibility for a moment, _damn, that would be scandalous_ considering Donghyuck has drunkenly admitted at four a.m. that Renjun was _the one_ on multiple occasions. And Renjun, he wasn’t fooling anyone either; he had practically made it a mission for himself to remain glued to Donghyuck’s side from the moment they started fucking. _Yeah,_ Jeno rambles to himself, _very scandalous._

“They’re sweet,” he continues after he receives an unencouraging silence from them.

“You sound like you know who it is.” Renjun comments. If he noticed the way Jeno tensed up under his assumption, he didn't address it. “Either that or you’re hoping it’s from a certain person.”

Jeno was a fool for not considering the fact that Renjun was too sharp. Donghyuck’s brows knit at his words, “No.” He instantly shook his head sternly. “Being friends with your ex is one thing, _hell,_ fucking him is one thing but _hoping_ it’s him sending you these letters is the worst thing you can do, Jeno.”

Renjun winces, and Jeno has to look away from the both of them. “I’m not hoping he’s sending me these letters,” he clarifies. It’s actually quite the opposite, he’s wishing it all remains in the dark, up in the air. He’s hoping that Mark Lee doesn’t think of him, only that would bring him a sense of relief.

“We won’t pressure you to figure out who it is,” Jeno wants to tell them there’s no pressure, but he’s afraid of what they might perceive his words as. Renjun pats his shoulder, comfortingly. “Do they bother you?”

Jeno swallows at the question, “Sometimes.”

“Then don’t read them anymore,” Donghyuck says, kindly. Even if he stops reading them, he’ll think of them over and over and over again. It’s what the person behind them wants, it was the purpose of sending them after all.

“Yeah,” he says, a small smile growing on his lips as he balls the letter in his fist. Along with the crush of his knuckles, goes all his wistful thinking. “I can always just stop reading them.”

* * *

Mark on campus is an entirely different person from when he's alone with Jeno.

To start, he was everywhere yet nowhere at all. Jeno’s friends talked about him, strangers would name drop him, and he could sometimes hear his shouts across the courtyard promoting his fraternity when he was nearby. It seems that the world also desired to be under Mark Lee’s fingertips. Perhaps he already had them pressed along the pad of his index finger, Jeno was just too late to realize the moment everything had stopped in favor for him.

“You know Mark, right?” Yangyang asks one day they pack up after a history lecture.

In all the times Yangyang and Jeno have hung out, only twice has Yangyang ever brought up Mark in conversation. Though the world never stops talking about him, Jeno refrains from uttering his name unless they were together, in a bedroom, or with his friends if absolutely needed to. Giving Mark too much conscious thought would crash Jeno’s illusion, it would leave him with a reality he didn’t quite want to face.

He hesitates a moment, eyes casted downwards to his backpack, at his friend’s words. Slowly, he continues placing his journal back into its place. “Yeah, he’s one of my friends.” That was true; he and Mark had continued a lot after their break up, _a lot._ “Why do you ask?”

He makes the mistake of looking up and seeing Yangyang’s eager smile and sparkling eyes, and there’s even the faintest tint on his cheeks that further give him away. “I’m interested in him,” he confesses. “Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”

Jeno turns away first, “I’m not sure. He hasn’t mentioned anyone.”

He hasn’t mentioned much to Jeno when they do speak. He only asks when Jeno is free, if he’d like to come over because his dog, Bella, missed being petted by him, or if he was in the mood. Jeno is sure Mark isn’t the type to keep him around if he met someone. Jeno slipping into his apartment, long after Hendery, Yukhei and Xiaojun have fallen asleep, was a clear indication that Mark had looked for no one else.

“Do you know if he’s into guys?” Of course Yangyang wouldn’t know that Mark Lee was bisexual, that he had dated a handful of guys and girls throughout his life, Jeno being one of them.

It was not something Mark paraded around to begin with. He was private about his love life, when he was with Jeno it was no different. The only reason Jaemin, Donghyuck and Renjun knew was because Jeno told them, once it was all over. He’s sure Yukhei, Xiaojun and Hender, Mark’s roommates, just assume he’s someone Mark has been fucking for almost two years now. And he bets they wonder how neither of them hadn’t called it quits yet, they probably ask Mark how he manages to keep such a casual fuck buddies relationship with a friend. Mark probably flusters over their words, unsure of how to answer back that it’s much more complicated than that.

“You’ll have to ask him,” Jeno responds, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and heading out the teaching room. He can hear Yangyang mumbling closely behind him, so he decides to say, “I’ll give you his number. Don’t worry, I’ll let him know it’s you.”

And they leave the conversation at that. Jeno passes him the phone number and Mark Lee never comes up again in their conversation. He’s unsure of what happens next after Yangyang texts the other, but he finds it isn’t any of his business to find out. Even if the thought leaves him with an unsatisfied hunger and an urge to search for answers he’s positive won’t please him.

 _Did you give yang my number?_ Mark texts him when he gets home.

 _Yeah,_ he responds as he slips off his shoes at the entrance. _He seemed really interested in you._

There’s a long pause of Jeno walking over to the kitchen, getting a drink, having a small conversation with Jaemin, who is doing his homework on the dining table, eating an apple before Mark texts him back on the way to his room. _I’m not into Yangyang like that,_ is what the first message says. When the second and final message comes, Jeno simply reads it and falls back onto his bed with a heavy sigh.

_You know me better than anyone else, Jeno Lee. And you know this isn’t what I want._

* * *

Mark’s jeep is small, but when he lowers the seat and pushes it back, it opens enough room for Jeno to slip into his lap.

The look Mark gives him is intense. His eyes glare into his, and his lips are scorching when he says, “Fuck yourself however you like,” in the lowest tone Jeno has ever heard him use.

Jeno doesn’t have to be told twice by the other. It’s his turn to have Mark beg for release from a ticking bomb urging to explode from within him. Jeno is determined to drive him to the edge, to make Mark a puddle of his own words and twist his expression into pure ecstasy. It’s only fair that Mark feels as hopeless yet hopeful as Jeno has been feeling the past few times they’ve been together.

With his hands placed to Mark’s shoulders, he steadies himself as he moves his hips. Mark stares down at his own cock disappearing and then reappearing in Jeno, he groans from the sight. Jeno can't help but feel proud when the other grips his hips, nails pinching at his skin, as he tries to get a good grasp on his reality. Mark seems at loss for words again, all because Jeno knows exactly how his body works and how well to please the both of them.

He reaches down and grips one of Mark’s hands, it startles the other boy for a moment. Jeno pries his fingers away and instead brings his hand up to his mouth where he slips Mark's fingers past his lips to suck. He witnesses his eyes darken with desire rather quickly, Jeno smirks slightly at him as he continues to move his hips. Once he's coated his fingers completely, he slides Mark's hand downwards to his hard cock. The other boy stares up at him in silence before he latches his hand to him, gripping him firmly as he goes to flick his wrist with the just the right amount of pressure that Jeno enjoys.

And when they're both at an all time high, Mark daringly leans in to nose along his nose. With their mouths parted, they don't kiss. Mark moves his wrist faster, and with precision, as Jeno grinds harder, knowing well that his back will be sore tomorrow from straining. It doesn't matter, not when Mark’s moans are meshing with his own, when he can feel the sweat of the other’s skin on his and when the time feels like it's come to an ultimate halt. Jeno finds he prefers this better. Mark falls apart beneath him and Jeno close enough to swallow every sound he makes, even the wicked words of _I missed you_ Mark shares when he's reached an incoherent state that only Jeno knows how to pull him out of.

  
  
  
  


Later when he's been dropped off at campus and Mark has disappeared for a fraternity meeting, he heads for his lockers. What was supposed to be a quick meet up with Mark turned into Jeno missing a lecture and Mark being late. That hardly ever happens when they're together, someone always seems to be conscious of the time. Lately, the case has been different, completely flipped. Jeno isn't sure where the time goes when he's with Mark spending minutes, hours in silence.

As he opens his locker, another letter falls out. Again, this letter is earlier than a Friday. He presumes the writer must have written something down in urgency or in that moment. He wonders what it will be about today, if the writer has decided to finally give up on him even though things seem to be easing back into place, slowly but surely, in Jeno’s life.

_There're a million things I want to tell you - millions of things I want to ask._

_I wish I had gotten the chance to meet you._

_When will I be given the time to see you? To actually see you, bare and raw._

_When it happens, will you let me look at you for a moment?_

_Could I kiss you, and dance my fingers down your skin like falling stars?_

_Would that be okay? Even if it's just a second, I'll hold it dear to my heart._

_Just for you._

_Sincerely, yours._

* * *

“Would you like to come over?” Mark asks over the phone, voice nervous and a bit worried of what Jeno might respond with. “I thought maybe we could take Bella for a walk. She misses you, I can tell. I only ever see her wag her tail so fast when you're around or when Hendery makes a trip to the pet store for snacks--”

“I'd love to see Bella,” Jeno cuts him off. _I want to see you._

“She wants to see you too,” Mark repeats. _Me too,_ it sounds like he says into Jeno’s ear. “Should I come get you?”

Jeno thinks of his roommates for a moment. He can practically picture it, Donghyuck would have something snarky to say while Renjun stares back, blank. Jaemin would just have an expression similar to disappointment. “Everyone is here, I think it would be better if--”

“I'll come get you,” Mark insists. “Really it's nothing. If you prefer to meet halfway, that's fine too. But it's cold out and I know your car isn't working--”

He remembered. Jeno didn't think he was listening the one time he answered the phone while they were together and the car mechanic said his car would be in the shop for a few more days since the heater had busted. It brings an unconscious smile on his lips to know Mark had payed attention to something insignificant but rather important to Jeno.

“Okay,” he says, and only then does Mark’s rambling come to a halt. “You can come get me in thirty minutes? I have to submit an assignment real quick.”

“Yeah,” Mark breathes out, seeming surprised that Jeno had agreed much easier than he thought. Jeno hears light shuffling in the background and then the familiar sound of a bark, “I'll be on my way, but don't feel rushed. Bella and I will just wait in the car until you're ready, whenever you're ready.”

“Okay,” Jeno repeats, only this time he's grinning and he's sure Mark can hear it.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Mark’s lips are warm, and just as soft as Jeno remembers them to be. It's frightening to know how well they both fall into place, time after time, when Jeno considers everything to have failed. It never does seem to go as he plans. Everything seems to always work when he's with Mark, even when he hopes it doesn't.

He had hoped the feeling would be gone, the one that Mark gives him when he so much as glances in his direction, but it was there. When Mark slipped his hand, this time warm and welcoming against the side of his neck, gently cupping so that he brought him closer, Jeno soared in his seat. Mark only placed a gentle kiss on his lips, one that was quick yet impactful before he dared to pull away and return to his own space on the bed. Jeno refused to let the feeling go, so he chased after it. And Mark matched his desperation with the small flick of his tongue against his own. He was willing to swallow every word, every possibility that went against this very moment. He was more than willing to believe for just one moment that they had figured it all out, and that no one needed to hide in order for the other to know how one another felt.

Having Mark so close, their noses brushed against one another and their eyes snapped shut from fear of losing, was everything Jeno hadn't known he loved. Having Mark finally allow his guard to slide down, one done on his own accord, left Jeno utterly breathless. Even if Mark pulled away to gasp, Jeno followed him. He wished he had met this Mark first, one that readily threw himself in front of him, unguarded and fully in tune with his emotions. Perhaps they would have avoided the icy touches, the small talk, and the broken promises. It takes two to fall in love, and Jeno also had many things to learn on his own.

Still, growth doesn't happen overnight, but gradually. Mark pulls away first and stares down at his lap, hands grabbing at his jeans as he shuts his eyes. “I can't,” he confesses in a small tone, confidence long gone. “I don't think I can do this with you anymore, Jeno.”

He freezes, perhaps what he hoped for wasn't the best he could have gotten. “This?”

Mark finally opens his eyes to look at him, he's managed to hide behind his shield again, one that he's quickly grown accustomed to. “Sleeping with you, I don't want to do it anymore.”

“Mark--”

“It's unhealthy for me, and for you,” Mark stands from his bed, quick to get further and further away from Jeno once again. “I think friends suit us better. Don't you think?” His gaze lands down at him again, only this time it's hopeful that Jeno will agree with him.

Jeno can agree that it is unhealthy, that they should have reset from the beginning as friends and instead worked their way until they reached a relationship again. He supposes continuing to see one another in their most vulnerable state had done the opposite of growth. The routine had gotten the best of them, it made Jeno too eager to follow it because it was familiar.

“It is,” he agrees. Part of him wishes he could put his foot down and demand answers from Mark, but it was the other boy’s call at the end of the day. Jeno was tired of seeming foolish in his eyes, “Let's not do this anymore.”

Similar to their past, there was no arguing or dispute to solve. They both had given up in the face of their pride, and neither wanted to seem in despair.

* * *

At some point, Jeno begins to think feigning confusion has become too unbearable. He begrudgingly admits to himself that Donghyuck was right. Perhaps he should have listened to him the first time he told him, that would have saved everything. It would have saved the illusion of himself, of his life, of _Mark._ There were always two options, even if Jeno thought there was only one, and the one he chose led him to this very point. He wishes he would have stopped reading the letters, but Jeno grew attached to the poetic words printed on dark ink. He grew attached to the thought of the person on the other end, so attached that he fooled himself into believing that they could both handle not knowing.

_I often find myself listening to music, and then reverting back to wondering about you._

_Do you think of me? Or the letters I send?_

_I think about them after I send them to you._

_Even when the moon continues to mock me and the sun only rises to set again, it replays in my mind like a song._

_I selfishly wonder if my letters make you wonder about me too_.

_Should I say something absurd? So that you think of me till night falls again?_

_Should I say what we're both thinking?_

_Should I tell you in person how in love I am with you?_

_Will that break our illusion? Will it break mine? Or worse, will it break yours?_

_And so it seems I must always write you letters that I can never send._

_Sincerely, yours._

Jeno was sure the illusion had broken long ago. It must have broken the moment the first letter was sent, or when he found himself in the bed of someone he had thought was a stranger only to find he felt at home in the cool sheets of cotton. He knew all too well there was no point in hoping for something he already knew.

* * *

Mark’s lit cigarette created a loomy fog in the air. One with unfinished promises and unspoken truths, it clouded Jeno’s entire mind for minutes on end.

Mark seemed to notice the weight of the air, but he refused to look over at Jeno and only simply remained sitting on his window sill with nothing on but a pair of boxers. There was a breeze that passed through his open window, blowing the curtains back slightly in a motion similar to waves at sea. Mark only smoked when things became too unbearable in his life, when he had no solutions for his problems or no answers for the people around him.

Jeno sits up, covers pulling at his bare hips as he examines Mark’s side profile. Lips curled downward, brows knitted, eyes stern, Mark was still evidently beautiful to watch. Even when he seemed on the verge of falling apart the shorter the cigarette on his lips seemed to get.

“It took you a month to call me again,” Jeno breaks the silence first. He doesn’t expect Mark to flinch at his sudden comment, but he does. It only seems to prove Jeno’s point, there was something on Mark’s mind that troubled him greatly.

“Yeah,” Mark responds, quietly. He brings the cigarette back up to his lips and sucks, the tip glistens red before it dims. “You never called or texted in that month.” He exhales, heavily. 

“I wasn't sure if you wanted me to.” Jeno confesses with a frown. “We agreed to quit.”

Mark is silent for the moment he taps his cigarette outside his window, dropping ashes as if they were rain drops, his touch a storm. “I always approach you first Jeno… could you just…” he licks his lips, as if to wipe himself of his own thoughts. “Forget it.”

Now it’s Jeno’s turn to sigh, eyes shutting as he leans back to press his back into the headboard. “Why can’t you ever tell me anything straight up, Mark?” He wonders.

“Because I have nothing to say that you would want to hear.”

“That’s not true,” Jeno opens his eyes to look at him. He finds Mark staring back, more displeased with himself than he is with Jeno. “Do I need to leave for you to write it down?”

He expects Mark to look at him with his wide eyes of shock, but instead he’s met with the other boy looking away, almost embarrassed. “So you know,” he mumbles to himself before pressing the end of the cigarette to the window sill before dropping it all together.

“Know what?”

Mark sighs, refusing to look at him as he says, “How I feel about you, Jeno. You know that I wrote the letters.”

Jeno expected a lot of things when he finally came clean to Mark, he had even expected a shout or betrayal of some sort. Mark was far from it; he seemed to have given up. “I knew it was you,” Jeno confessed, and saying it to him - to anyone for that matter - out loud was liberating.

All the words, the sentiment, the memories, it all led him back to Mark. Perhaps it might have started as wistful thinking, but he quickly came to realize that Mark's words were a mirror for his own thoughts.

“I'm sorry,” Mark says in defeat. He turns to look at him again, this time with sorrow filled eyes, ones that clearly consider what they've done a mistake. “I shouldn't have sent those out. We were already doing _this_ , and I just let my mind wander. I'm sorry I put you in an uncomfortable situation--”

“You didn't.”

“I did,” he insists, this time with frustration. “I'm the one who ended things the first time, and then I went ahead and did it again only to call you back.”

“Mark,” Jeno calls out with a frown of his own. “This is partly my fault too, you know.” As he stands, he takes the thin cover with him, wrapping it over his shoulders so that it hides his bare body from the breeze. He walks over and gently places a hand on Mark’s, who is still sitting near the window sill in nothing but his boxers, cheek. “I should have told you that I knew it was you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Mark whispers, and he seems a bit frightened with what Jeno would say. It makes the other realize how much this has affected Mark, and how allowing him space has only in turn made him worry that Jeno doesn’t feel the same way he does.

Part of him will always aim to be rational around him. He knew Mark needed this, he needed to write those letters so that he could figure himself out through the lines of black ink. And Jeno needed to read them, quietly to himself, and then pretend it wasn’t Mark Lee. Perhaps they did do everything wrong again, but for once in any relationship that they’ve been in, they’re communicating. Mark is saying the things he wants to know, and Jeno is finally hearing the things he’s wanted to hear from Mark, in person.

“At first it was because I wanted to think they were from you,” Jeno confesses. He licks his lips, as if to wipe himself of his scattered thoughts as his eyes glaze, Mark watches the movement in silence. “And when I knew you were the one who wrote me the letters, it made me want to keep hearing those things from you for as long as I could because I knew I wouldn’t hear them from your own lips. We never said things like that to each other, we never spoke about how much we thought of one another or how desperate at times we were to simply touch one another. Everything you wrote, I wished I would have told you too.”

Mark looks up at him and lifts one hand to cover Jeno’s that is still cupping his cheek. “I want to tell you these things, in person and for as long as I can, Jeno.” He lightly caresses the back of Jeno’s hand, “We can stop everything now and go back to the beginning, a new slate.”

“Would you want that?” Jeno asks, carefully and softly.

Mark nods into his open palm, “Would you?”

“I would.” Jeno finally beams at him for once, and Mark mirrors it. It’s the first time they’ve smiled at one another so grand since the beginning of their friendship, now it serves as a reminder of how in love they are with one another. 

And after one final kiss, one where Mark grips the cover tightly as Jeno runs his fingers through his hair, they go back. To the start.

* * *

One afternoon when Jeno is sitting in the courtyard doing his work after Donghyuck and Renjun have left for their shared art class, someone approaches his table. Jeno sees the figure from the corner of his eye, but he pays no mind to them until the stranger is in front of his view, a bright smile on his lips with crescent eyes. The person waves, “Hi, I’m Mark!” He exclaimed with great excitement, cheeks a pretty tint as fumbles with the phone in his other hand. “Sorry to bother you, but I couldn’t help but notice how handsome you were across the courtyard.”

Jeno wants to laugh, but he wills it to die in his throat. The beginning with Mark had meant the _actual_ start, but Jeno would take reliving in all the same moments with Mark over again. Only this time they would do it right. “Thank you,” he bashfully responds, slowly shutting his laptop.

“No problem,” Mark mirrors his look. “If you’re open for it,” he taps his fingers along his thigh. “I would love to take you out on a date?”

Jeno sees the look in Mark’s eyes and nods. There is love, appreciation and something comforting in them. He knows going into this with Mark, this time slowly with bashful compliments, lingering gazes, light feather touches, and warm marks across exposed skin, he thinks this time they are much more prepared than the first. This time Mark can love him, unforgivingly so, and Jeno can finally say the things he’s always wanted to say to Mark instead of walking away, biting his tongue. Now there is honesty and less pride; now it’s just Mark Lee who loves Jeno so much and Jeno Lee who was finally ready to experience and give it love.

“I was going to hit up the cafe on campus to study a bit actually since it’s a bit cold out.” He pauses to see Mark’s eager eyes, they both know what question will come next but it still makes the other all the more excited. And with a crescent smile of his own, Jeno throws himself on the line for Mark as well. “Would you like to join me?”

* * *

_Your kisses are like the sun, for I am the moon cooling them._

_I've grown up with the idea that love must be kept private, and must only be shown when the stars begin to hang themselves one by one in the dark._

_I want to stop the world for you, let them savor your caresses for a single second so they'll envy me._

_You who makes me feel timeless; I found a home here._

_On your lips, in your eyes, against your touch._

_I've learned to love through the gazes, and be loved through the sound of your heart when I press my ear to it._

_Thank you for understanding me, for giving me a moment to look at you, completely bare._

_I love you more than you will ever realize, Jeno Lee._

_Sincerely yours forever, Mark Lee._

**Author's Note:**

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